


all of the things that make you feel at ease

by eberbae (dustyjournal), remembermyfic



Series: alter!verse [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Animal Transformation, Canon Compliant, Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, bunny!zack, hawk!kris, mountain lion!connor, mountain lion!leon, otter!maroon, peregrine falcon!cam, puppy!Matt, puppy!drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 09:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10896588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustyjournal/pseuds/eberbae, https://archiveofourown.org/users/remembermyfic/pseuds/remembermyfic
Summary: Connor knows Leon almost as well as he knows Dylan, all of his little quirks and habits, what it means when he raises an eyebrow exactly like that.(Set after Game 7 in Anaheim.)





	all of the things that make you feel at ease

**Author's Note:**

> rmf: we’ll have to write the mcdrai at some point. I think it’s really just a lot of soft cuddling  
> e: no time like the present
> 
> (Read the series description for context, if you'd like.)

It’s a let down, being eliminated. It’s not the first time he has, and not the first time they’ve been heading into an early summer, but Connor knows it never gets easier. Especially since it felt so close, so attainable.

Looch nudges him, offers him a little bit of a smile. It’s tight around the edges and it almost makes Connor laugh. He’ll be better after the bus, Connor knows. Everyone’s post-game routines are so familiar to him now, like the way Looch’ll call his wife, see if the girls are up. The way that Patty has a huge hand right against the top of Caggs’ spine, the way Matt kind of hovers over them both, even as he strips himself to his Under Armour.

The way that Leon catches his eye.

Connor knows Leon almost as well as he knows Dylan, all of his little quirks and habits, what it means when he raises an eyebrow exactly like that. Connor rolls his shoulders absently, not because of an ache, but because he can feel the way he wants to leap up onto the shelf above him, the way he wants to sit outside of the door where he knows there’s media gathered and growl at anyone daring to ask them why they couldn’t be better.

Leon cocks his head towards Maroon, Caggs and Benning, towards the way Letestu’s head is hanging just a little, Nursey with his head against the back of his stall. Connor barely has to nod. So Leon leans over, says something to Kass.

Connor doesn’t watch it go around the room. He doesn’t have to. He knows his guys after a full year with them, after everything they’ve been through. He methodically removes his gear, packs away his skates and helmet. He does his media, has his shower, only fidgets a few more times than he means to while he’s answering questions and waiting for the team.

Matt intercepts Connor just before Connor is going to climb onto the bus, looking exhausted and nervous. Twitchy. He’s never been quite this keyed up and Connor feels his attention shift from losing to his team.

“What’s up?” Connor asks softly, almost gently. Matt looks like he’s about to crack and while Connor has more than enough good things to say about Matt’s game, he knows no one’s really in the mood for a pep talk. Not yet.

“Just, uh,” Matt starts, drops his gaze from Connor’s eyes momentarily before looking back up. “Drake and I are, uh. Pat said he’d look after us if we changed on the bus, but I wanted to check with you first. I know we don’t, like, need your permission…” He trails off and throws his hand out as if to let it finish the sentence for him. Connor gets it. They’re active puppies, even if they are the least of the team’s worries in their animal forms. Hell, they might even lift some spirits on the bus ride back.

“Of course,” Connor smiles, accepting and understanding without being too much for so many frayed nerves. “Thanks for the heads up. D’you need anything from me?”

Matt grins and shakes his head, his dimples showing and that’s a good sign.

“Come visit once you do,” Connor reiterates, then hits Matt’s shoulder softly.

The bus isn’t crowded - they’re still waiting for a few people - but it doesn’t take Connor long to spot Leon, nor the empty seat next to him. He plops down, barely bites back the relieved sigh. It’s not enough to keep Leon from letting out a very quiet snort of amusement as he settles a little further in the seat.

It’s perfect for Connor, who curls up next to him with ease. It’s not comfortable, really, not the way he’s itching to change, but he tucks his hand around Leon’s bicep and settles his head on Leon’s shoulder. Leon helps when he murmurs a quiet ‘hello’ into Connor’s forehead.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” Connor mutters back. He’ll change if he lets himself float, a product of fighting against it for so long; his superstitions for the playoffs hadn’t let him. He feels Leon’s face stretch into a smile.

“Aye aye, captain,” Leon whispers. Whether he drops a light kiss to the top of Connor’s head, Connor can’t be sure. But he’s going to assume that he did.

Leon scrolls through Instagram and Connor watches, happy to do something a little mindless. He’ll check his own phone later; there isn’t going to be anything important on it, nothing that can’t wait anyway. Leon switches from his feed to pictures of forests and rivers, hiking trails and landscapes. Connor sighs, feels more than hears Leon echo it and knows it’s only a matter of time before Leon will change too.

He’s pulled out of their little bubble by a gentle shake on his shoulder. Grybs is there, holding Matt under his arm like a football. Matt whines, his little legs going and Connor reaches for him dutifully.

Matt immediately goes for Connor’s face with a little yelp, and Connor flinches away from his puppy affection. Leon coos beside him, not all mocking and it makes Connor’s heart grow three sizes.

“He’s pretty cute, isn’t he,” Leon murmurs almost absently and reaches over to scratch the lab’s tiny ears.

Connor hums. “You and Caggs aren’t giving Patty trouble, are you?” He asks Matt.

He realizes his mistake too late. Matt yelps and squirms against Connor’s hold, bouncing up to Connor’s shoulder so he can get his front paws on the headrest of Connor’s seat. He scrabbles a little, almost losing his balance until Connor props him up with a hand on his butt. Matt whines, even as his tail wags and Connor reflexively shushes him.

“Relax,” comes Kris’ voice from a few rows back. “He’s right here.”

Connor peeks around the seat to see Kris with a tight grip on Caggs’ squirming form. The german shepherd is making the same little whining noises, despite the way Kris has his hand resting heavily on Caggs’ head. Even so, Connor knows how bad they can get and scrambles a little to stand up and head back.

A couple of the guys have been lucky enough to drop off already, so Connor tries not to jostle anyone too much and keep Matt quiet as he makes his way towards Kris and Caggs. Matt’s not helping much, especially since he won’t stop squirming and even tries to push off against Connor’s chest. The guys awake are all laughing softly - and Connor gets it, he’s kind of grinning himself - but Connor gets his hands around Matt’s middle to bring him up to eye level.

“No,” he says, quiet but stern. “Don’t make me separate you.”

Matt huffs - _huffs,_ seriously - and whines again, contrite. Connor’s heart melts a little bit more. He knows Matt and Caggs get a little more out of their human minds than others do in their alter forms, Connor’s the same way, so they can’t really help it, but they also have to stay safe. End of season or no, Connor’s not letting anyone get injured because they got a little too, well, primal.

“You okay to take them?” Connor asks, eyes darting to Darnell, seated beside Kris. It’s a hard question when his instincts are telling him to take Caggs and Matt back to his seat, to curl them up between him and Leon. But Kris and Darnell both answer a quiet affirmative and Connor knows he’s a little too close to his own transformation to keep an eye on both of them.  

He lifts Matt up to eye level again, smiles at the way his tongue lolls out for a moment. “Nice work, Matty.”

Matt licks his face and yips back, almost smiling. Connor doesn’t really know what to do with that so he just hands Matt over and returns to Leon.

“I want a dog,” Leon says when Connor gets comfortable again. They’re close to the hotel now, so Connor settles for the long line of Leon’s body against his side rather than curling close.

“You say that every time Matt and Drake change,” Connor replies. “Why don’t you take them down to the River Valley? You know they love running round there.”

Leon chuckles, shrugs where Connor can feel it. “Maybe next season.”

And that… stings. It shouldn’t, Connor knows, but he’s kind of let himself forget it for a few glorious beats.

Leon puts a hand on Connor’s knee. It’s steadying, empowering, the same way Connor can read the bright hunger behind Leon’s eyes. “It’s going to be great, Con.”

Connor nods because yeah, it is.

It’s a bit of a flurry when they pull into the hotel, trying to gather Caggs and Matty on top of the weird attached-at-the-hip situation Nuge is doing with Lars. Caggs nips at his pants, his whole body shaking until Connor relents and picks him up, lets him lick at his face while Leon laughs quietly, nudging him into the aisle. Connor’s got his bag too, and it’s a bit of a circus trick to balance the small pup, his bag, and get off the bus. They crowd in the lobby for a bit, breaking off into natural groups, guys that have their own post-game routines and guys not quite ready to do the usual pile.

Connor can’t help eyeing the way Lars and Nuge have gravitated towards each other. He knows what anxiety looks like on Nuge, but Jordan lays a heavy hand on his shoulder, shakes his head a little. He offers Jordan a kind of rueful look and tries to dodge when Jordan goes for his hair. Connor can’t help it though. He worries about his guys, and Nuge is one of the guys Connor has felt particularly protective of this season.

(Jordan too, but they don’t talk about it, the same way they don’t talk about the breakup or scoring slumps or the trade rumours flying around, especially with Jordan’s lack of scoring in the playoffs.

They don’t talk about a lot, really. But a lot isn’t all that important.)

Connor kind of lets himself drift as the elevator climbs. He knows his senses are getting sharper, smell specifically. He knows each person in this elevator, even with his eyes closed, half tuned into Leon. It’s not quite a death grip that Leon has on Connor’s upper arm, but it’s not far off. It’s keeping Connor steady though, so he’s not going to complain.

They all have their habits and rituals when it comes to changing, so Connor doesn’t think much of the way they break away from each other at first. Leon has to tug his arm a bit to keep him focused and with it, but the minute they’re in the room, Connor drops his bag and hits the bathroom. There are habits here too, a routine to start the bath for Pat’s otter, but he can’t today, doesn’t have the control. It’s too close, close enough that he’s barely pushed the door mostly shut and stripped out of his clothes before he’s on four legs instead of two.

Reality fades quickly after that, as it is wont to do when he’s in his cat skin. Instincts take over, like the need to protect his own. There’s enough of Connor in his own brain that he knows they’ll come, that this is their den, where everyone is safe, he just needs to wait it out. Plus, two of them are already here, two little ones that smell like spring and cubs. Connor knows them, loves them even.

One of them, the bigger one with pointy ears, yelps and comes bounding up to Connor, headbutting his leg a few times before Connor nudges him back, nuzzling with his head. The other, the smaller one with floppy ears, is in front of Connor too and Connor distributes his affection easily, licking at the little black head.

Now all he can do is wait, and the best place to do that is the highest point in the room: a big, brown box that almost hits the roof. Connor can see everything from there, he knows, and leaps up easily to settle in. It’s easy to do so; there’s more than enough room, even to let his tail swish back and forth. Yes, he thinks. This is good.

Slowly, steadily, more come, Connor’s pride. The chittering brown one that can be a little annoying, but mostly just wants to play - an otter, the sliver of Connor’s humanity provides. The cubs want to chase, and Connor spends some amusing minutes watching the otter dodge and weave. The cubs are fast, but not fast enough. The otter races up the only human in the room, draping himself around his neck.

Connor knows this human. He too is a lion - Leon. He has a little smile on his face as he watches Connor on his perch, offers a hand and says something Connor can’t quite understand. Some words translate, like ‘good’ and ‘captain’ and it diminishes Connor’s growing need to seek out the rest. The door creaks and Connor watches more of his pride trickle in, all human this time, at least for now. They exchange a few words that Connor belatedly registers as ‘Pat’ and ‘water’, watches them as they all look over to make sure Connor gets that everyone is still safe, even if Connor can’t always see them. Connor lowers his head to his paws, returns to watching the cubs wrestle. The humans will make sure the otter is safe.

The sound of running water draws his attention next, and Connor absently swishes his tail as he listens to it fall, fall, fall, then stop. He settles in more completely when he hears splashing - the otter playing, and Connor lets his eyes kind of drift closed. He can still smell them all, can still pick out each person in the room, can still match them with a name hidden in the deep depths of his mind: Mark and Darnell, Cam and Laurent. His pride.

The cubs bark a little, and it makes Connor growl because they have to be _quiet_ , but it’s the splashing that’s called their attention. He pays it little mind, since the cubs are curious and it isn’t likely that the otter will get them in much trouble. Or so he assumes, until there’s a loud yelp and a much bigger splash that puts Connor’s hairs up. It only takes a quick glance for him to take inventory - all human minus one giant bird, which means Connor can go investigate.

“Hey.” And it’s the one almost as tall as Connor’s perch, Darnell. Connor trusts him with the cubs, but he’s not Connor, so though Connor lets himself settle back on the perch, he watches Darnell head into the bathroom.

He comes out moments later, a cub under each arm. The pointy-eared one looks fine, but the other is wrapped in a towel. Connor thinks he’d laugh if he could, but settles for a low rumble to indicate his amusement.

It is, of course, Leon who catches his attention again, scratches at his ear, even though he has to reach. Connor likes that, and doesn’t really listen to the words he says. The scratching is gone, and Connor wants to growl again, this time in discontent, but Leon’s already moving away, slipping out into the hall. It puts Connor’s back up and he’s halfway to pushing himself off his perch to make sure Leon’s safe when another large cat pads back into the room.

Connor ducks his head back down to his paws, shuffles a little to make room. This cat is graceful the same way Leon is on the ice, and bounds easily up onto Connor’s perch with him. It feels nice and Connor lets him snuggle in, feels the way he nudges at Connor’s head and nuzzles. Connor’s instincts are calm and happy, _mate, pack, Leon_ echoing in his chest. He knows how this works now and turns his head to lick at Leon’s face before letting Leon drape all over him. His weight is nice, comforting, calming, the way Leon’s heat and weight blanket Connor. He could stay like this, head on his paws - Leon’s head resting on the back of his neck, tails entwined - for a long time.

Over time, a bunny and a falcon join their ragtag group of mammals. The cubs exhaust themselves into curling up on Darnell’s chest and the room goes quiet. Not silent, in part because of the splashing, but also just the natural sound of the pride together. Leon’s nestled close to Connor, dozing as well. They’re all there for each other, peacefully co-existing.

That’s when the purr starts, deep in Connor’s chest. The contentedness of his pride rolling through him, rumbling out of him. They’re all safe and unharmed, and while it’s still not enough to help Connor sleep, he knows he can rest. He does for a while, kind of dozes, wakes up as they all slowly turn back to human before heading back to their own rooms.

When they’re all gone, when it’s just Connor and Leon left, Connor wakes Leon up with a gentle nudge to his face. Leon’s slow to wake, grumbling and blinking, even trying to hide his face under Connor’s jaw, but Connor is persistent. Leon yawns wide, then pushes his nose against Connor’s. Connor licks Leon’s face affectionately and lets himself drift again, gives them a few moments to stay curled up together. It’s nice. Connor likes this, even purrs a bit.

It’s Leon who eventually gets up, stretches his paws and leaps off their perch with ease. He watches, tail moving as Leon heads to the other room. It’s only then that Connor too leaps down, rolls his head a little.

Changing back isn’t uncomfortable, exactly; easier when he’s not forcing it, but Connor knows it’s time. His body wants to stay in its strongest form, offer him more of a chance to settle and calm, be away from being eliminated and having no more hockey until October, but his head clears more and more as he tries, memories of his cat form fading into a dream.

“You back, Con?” Comes Leon’s voice from the bathroom.

Connor shakes his head once, blinks twice. It’s fucking cold in here, probably in part, he thinks, because he’s naked. “Mhmm,” he replies, voice scratchy. “Yeah. Just. One sec.”

He could go to his duffle, he knows, but Leon’s left his right there, wide open and spilling out a little. It’s not Leon’s room, of course, but Connor’s always loved the way Leon can make himself at home in Connor’s space. He tugs out a soft pair of shorts, a t-shirt with Leon’s number pressed above his heart. It’s not quite cuddling, as is their habit in cat form, apparently, but it smells like Leon and Connor can’t help the way it makes his stomach flip. They’re not - they’re not official, or dating, or anything, really, but Connor knows something’s there between them, secure but soft and real.

He gives an all-clear once he’s tucked himself under the covers. Leon has his own room, of course, because neither of them are rookies, but given the way Leon’s bag is tucked under the window and not by the door, Connor feels confident that Leon is spending the night.

Sure enough, Leon walks slowly into the room wearing just boxers - Connor checks him out shamelessly - and smiles, before taking the invitation Connor offers by lifting the covers just slightly. They don’t curl towards each other, not right away. Instead, they share sleepy smiles, the same way they’d shared affectionate nuzzles in their other forms. It makes Connor feel warm all over with the ease of it all.

And the thing is, Connor knows his season is over. He’s worked hard this year, like a recovery year, but he’s also played so much hockey. There was Worlds last year and the World Cup and then an eighty-two game season and playoffs and Connor is _tired_. Leon though. Leon had just been heating up and Connor knows there is more hockey to be played. Hell, if Connor got one more Snap from Marns of his Team Canada jersey…

“You should go to Worlds.”

The words are out of Connor’s mouth before he can stop them because his filter is still kind of weak, exhaustion and a little bit less humanity than he’d like. Leon huffs a little, like he’s not even close to surprised Connor’s bringing it up.

“I think my dad’s already booked my ticket.”

He doesn’t sound excited though, and Connor furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t want to go?”

“It’s not that,” Leon says. “I want to go. You know I love playing for Germany, but it’s been a long fucking year. You’re not even going.”

Connor breathes out as Leon rolls to his back - rolls away, a traitorous part of his brain says. Connor ignores it. It’s obvious Leon’s thought about it a lot, weighed his options. So he says quietly, “You’re going, though.”

Leon rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer. It’s awkward for a moment, then two. Connor doesn’t know if he should move closer, put his head on the crook between Leon’s shoulder and chest, wrap an arm around him. It’s very enticing, but he holds back.

“How about this,” Connor starts, measured. “You make it past the prelims and I’ll come.” He hopes it’s a good incentive, even if he knows he’s not going to make it that long. He’ll probably just make a quick stop in Paris, say hi to Marns and TK, Pointer. Then he can just...watch Leon play beautiful hockey.

Leon smiles and turns his head to face Connor. He looks tired, but not exhausted. There’s a fondness in his eyes and Connor wants to kiss him so, so badly.  

“You drive a hard bargain, McDavid,” Leon says, low and affectionate, and the reaches his hand out to cup Connor’s face.

It’s the permission Connor’s looking for and he melts easily into the touch. He doesn’t hold back now, leaning forward to meet Leon in the middle, kissing him firm and open-mouthed.

It reminds him of the moment he’d first hung out with Leon and Darnell, when Connor had just arrived in Edmonton. They’d gotten drunk because fuck yeah, you can drink at 18 in Alberta, loose and happy. Maybe a little too loose, and a little too happy, since it had been Darnell, eyes on the ceiling and bottle resting on his thigh that had said, out of the blue, “My alter’s a bear.”

Connor’s first reaction had been to say, “Cool. Mine’s a mountain lion.”

And then Leon had blinked at him, taken aback and confused before slowly saying, “Me too.”

It had felt like a slap to the face, meeting someone with the same alter as him for the first time. It’s more common than Connor comprehends - there are only so many animals in the world, and way more humans - but in that moment, it had felt special. Intimate. A way for them to share a mindset that wasn’t hockey. A set of instincts Connor had never had someone else understand before.

It feels like that now, a thrill and a connection, another way he and Leon just fit. It fills Connor’s heart and chest as he kisses Leon with abandon, taking and tasting with the same push and pull they have in every other part of their lives. Better, faster, higher.

More.

The same way it feels right to lean in, to roll on top of Leon’s welcoming body, the way he turns and sprawls over the mattress but drags Connor with him with a hand on the back of his neck. It’s Connor that moves to straddle him and settle in, Connor that lines everything up just right. He’s only half-hard, but Leon’s dedicated to mapping out every inch of Connor’s mouth, his other hand trailing down Connor’s back to cup his ass and Connor bucks into where they’re pressed together, glorious, beautiful friction.

They get each other off like that, smooth and easy, a little languid but confident and sure of where they are - of who they are together. Connor feels something definite settle between them as they come down from it, when he kisses Leon’s jaw and Leon takes his mouth for one more hot, sweet kiss. Falling asleep is easy, curled around Leon’s warmth.

The season's over, the off-season stretching like a chasm in front of him, but Leon’s pressed all against his front; Leon, who’s going to Worlds where Connor can watch and admire the insane hockey he’s so underrated about. It makes Connor smile into Leon’s cheek.

Tonight was everything that Connor had needed.

**Author's Note:**

> [Drake's alter](https://s3-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/bowwowtimes-new/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/Screenshot-2015-04-13-15.05.45.png), [Matty's alter](http://media.gettyimages.com/photos/chocolate-lab-puppy-picture-id169659935?s=170667a). 
> 
> Come visit us on tumblr at [remembermyfic](http://remembermyfic.tumblr.com/) and [eberbae](http://eberbae.tumblr.com)!


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